


Ungrateful Heart

by EtoilesJaunes



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Angst, Don't read this if you're allergic to angst, F/M, Identity Reveal, Post-Hawk Moth Defeat, angst with a... semi-resolved ending, rating bump for language, update: and kissing oops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-07-23 18:25:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16164392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EtoilesJaunes/pseuds/EtoilesJaunes
Summary: no one’s taught you how to loveand i wouldn’t know where to startRelationships aren't always just about two people who love each other. It takes two people who are willing to work together to make it happen. What happens when two people love each other, but one isn't willing?





	1. What We Thought Must Be Done

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lady_Bryght](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Bryght/gifts).



> for Maximum Feels, put 'You're Scaring Me' by Maria Mena on while reading this
> 
> i'm having writer's block on customer of love bc it doesn't have enough angst. so you're getting this.

After Hawk Moth’s capture and subsequent reveal, after the sirens and the press and the rush of activity, the silence felt heavy.

Ladybug and Chat Noir had escaped, needing some space to come to terms with what they had learned that day. On a rooftop, they leaned against each other, silent tears flowing down their cheeks. Relief, because _finally,_ it all meant something.

All of the lies, all of the events they’d missed, all of the times they’d had to grow up _far_ too fast — it was for this. To keep Paris safe.

Those weren’t the only tears, though. Gabriel Agreste’s only child, Adrien Agreste, was now left without a parent to take care of him. Ladybug cried for him. Chat… Well, Chat couldn’t take the betrayal. The abandonment. Knowing what was to come. He cried for all of that.

As the tears slowly ran out, Ladybug felt a sense of anticipation. The threat was gone. They could finally find out who the person under the mask was. She took a deep breath and stepped back.

“Chat…”

He looked away. “I know what you’re about to say. I… I need some time.”

“Take as long as you need, Chat.” Heaven knew she’d kept this from him for long enough.

He nodded and turned around. “I’ll see you, my Lady.”

Then, he extended his baton and vaulted off.

 

“Welcome, Chat Noir.” Master Fu spoke calmly, expression not changing as he looked down at the box that Adrien held by his side. “Ah. Does Ladybug know?”

The boy’s silence was answer enough for the man.

 

Marinette had been staring at her ceiling for the past forty-five minutes. Alya had sent her an invitation to one of the hundreds of parties being held throughout Paris celebrating the defeat of the supervillain, but she’d ignored it.

She’d stopped at the Agreste Manor after Chat had taken off, but wasn’t allowed through the gate. They weren’t taking visitors, apparently.

Her phone started buzzing again and she looked over at it. She bolted upright when she saw who it was, not able to answer it fast enough.

“Master Fu! Is everything okay?”

“If I were you, I would be at the Saint-Lazare station as soon as possible.”

_Chat._

“Tikki, spots on!”

She left her phone on the bed. It was Master Fu who had to hang up.

 

* * *

 

 

Adrien didn’t think he’d ever seen the train station so deserted. He’d seen it in the early hours and in the late hours, on all sorts of weekends and holidays, and there were always people trying to get somewhere. But now, people were with their families, celebrating the fact that they were safe and together and they didn’t have to fear for their lives every time they stepped outside.

Must be nice.

As Adrien sat on the bench, he was surprised he was holding it together so well. Maybe it was the fact that he’d said his own goodbyes to Ladybug already. Not that she’d heard any of them.

He felt bad, of course, that he didn’t get to do the same for Nino, or Alya, or Chloé… Or Marinette. His relationship with each was different, of course, but those were his closest friends after Ladybug.

He just couldn’t face them. Not when they would see him and know just exactly _whose_ son he was. He didn’t know exactly how they’d react — whether it would be pity or fear or no emotion at all, just shunning him — but he didn’t want to see any of it.

When he got home, he’d locked his bedroom door and packed a bag. He’d been slowly withdrawing cash for when he turned eighteen (two months away), but now was better than ever to put it to some use. He didn’t have a plan, not really, but he knew it would need money.

He didn’t know where he was going, he just transformed and jumped out of the window.

Plagg knew he was running away. He’d been there while Adrien was packing. Adrien had packed some cheese, of course, while Plagg reassured him that he’d be fine with whatever kind Adrien would be able to get in the future.

He’d been supportive.

That might have been the thing that hurt the most when he de-transformed and pulled off the ring.

He’d felt Master Fu’s judgement, but the man didn’t voice it, for which Adrien was greatful.

His train ticket had been the next one available, which was about forty minutes from the time he’d bought it, and it had been twenty five minutes since. He knew he looked strange, with a hoodie and jeans at just the beginning of October, and with sunglasses in the evening _and_ indoors, but it was less conspicuous than the face that was surely running across every television screen in the country.

He looked up at the huge clock down the wall from him and sighed. Ten minutes to go, and then he could start moving on. Ten minutes until he could start over.

He kept going over his options. He was heading North, maybe he could go to London? Fly to America? Surely, Americans wouldn’t be paying too much attention to what was going on in Paris. They wouldn’t recognize him as the son of a terrorist.

He looked up at the clock again. Still ten minutes. Damn it. He was about to resume staring at the wall opposite him when someone in his peripheral vision caught his eye. Someone was standing there, staring at him. He froze, knowing he’d been recognized. Maybe he could ignore them and they’d think it was a mistake.

Something told him they wouldn’t, so he did the next best thing. He arranged his face into the most threatening expression he could manage, turned his head, and took off his sunglasses so he could stare at them directly.

Of course, that all fell apart when he saw _who_ was standing there.

Marinette.

_Damn it._

Of all the people who had to find him, it had to be her.

Nino might understand.

Alya might understand.

Chloé would definitely understand.

Marinette… Well, she would understand, for sure, but she also had the best chance at convincing him to stay. She didn’t give up on anyone.

He let his face relax again and directed his gaze to the floor.

_Please leave. Please leave. Please leave._

“Adrien?”

“That’s me.”

She was getting closer. He willed himself to become one with the bench. Maybe if he didn’t move, she’d stop.

“Can I sit with you?”

He sighed in defeat. “I don’t think I’ll be able to stop you, will I?”

She didn’t respond to that, just walked around to the other side of him to take the empty space. He had his bag between his feet, so he didn’t even have that as a buffer.

“You don’t have to leave just because of him, you know.”

“I’ll never be able to leave him behind if I stay,” he replied. “All that people will think when they see me is ‘Oh, there goes Hawk Moth’s son.’ Mothers will cross the street to keep their children away from me. No one will hire me, ever. No one wants me.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true.”

“Nino, Chloé, Alya…”

“They’ll live.”

 _“I_ want you here.”

He took a deep breath.

“You’ll live, too.”

“Not even one person?”

_Ladybug._

“Not even one.”

Adrien counted five seconds of silence, during which he glanced up and saw he had six minutes left.

“You know, _chaton,_ you’ve never been that good at lying to me.”

 

Was he breathing? He couldn’t tell.

He was dimly aware of his arms curling around his waist, his torso bending forward over his legs, a warmth on his back. Apparently, he hadn’t been out of tears. He needed to breathe to cry, right? So he was breathing.

“It’s alright, Chat, it’s okay. I’m here.” The whispered words were repeated over again. They were probably supposed to be soothing.

“You weren’t supposed to know.”

“It’s okay, Adrien.”

“No!” He turned his head back to her for a second before sitting halfway up and cradling his head in his hands. She didn’t take her hand off his back. “I just… I wanted _one_ person to remember me as… As _me,_ just me.”

“Please, Adrien, just… Come back with me. We can _talk_ about this.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. I need to get away from Paris. I need to start over somewhere where no one knows who I am. Maybe _you_ want me to stay, but no one else does. Not really. They don’t need a daily reminder of what my father did to the city. And you…”

In a moment of weakness, he looked at her again. Her big bluebell eyes were sadder than he’d ever seen them. It was almost enough to get him to stop what he was saying.

“You know all of me now. I’m not who you thought I was, am I? Either side of me. You know it’s true.”

“Adrien, knowing you’re my partner is better than I ever could have imagined. Please, don’t close yourself off from me.”

“And then what?” he asked. “One day, you’ll decide that I’m not worth the trouble. My one friend in the city will abandon me, and then it’ll be that much harder to leave and start over.”

“Friend?”

Adrien paused. “Do… Do you not even think that much of me?”

“Chat, I… I _love_ you.”

He had trouble swallowing. “You don’t have to pretend.”

“I’m not pretending. Why would I lie to you about this?”

“I don’t know. You like taking care of people. Maybe you actually even _believe_ it right now, for whatever reason. But that’s all the more reason to leave now.”

“What could you possibly be talking about?” She sounded like she was on the verge of tears.

“Because I’m in love with you, too, and there’s two ways this could end if I go back with you. One, you decide I’m too hard to continue to love and you leave me. We’re both heartbroken and I leave anyway. Two… Marinette, you want to go into _fashion._ If, somehow, we do end up together… Your association with me will follow you around for the rest of your life. You have some _amazing_ talent, Marinette, and you don’t need _me_ bringing you down.”

“I don’t care about that, Adrien. I just care about you.”

“I won’t ask you to give up your dreams for me. You’ll find someone else.”

In the distance, he heard the rising noise of a train. They both turned their heads in that direction for a second before looking back at each other. Marinette’s eyes were swimming with tears and desperation.

“At least tell me how I can find you again.”

Adrien stood and picked up his bag.

“Trust me, my Lady. I’m doing you a favor. You'll thank me, someday.” His feet were feeling heavier and heavier. “Please, forget about me.”

“Never.” She stood next to him. “I’ll go with you. I’ll—”

“Marinette, trust me when I say this is the _last_ thing I thought I’d say to you.” The train finally appeared, the brakes already squealing to a stop. “Leave me alone. Go home.”

Her jaw dropped open and she visibly leaned away from him. Then, her expression grew angry. “Then believe _me_ when _I_ say this is the last thing I thought I’d say to _you._ You’re a coward. You don’t want to come back with me because you’re too afraid that I actually _do_ love you. I thought you were supposed to _trust_ me. I’d _never_ leave you.”

She’d started crying, and seeing that made him realize he’d started again, too.

The train finally stopped and the doors opened with a hiss.

“I hope you have a good life, my Lady.”

“Chat…”

He reached across the space between them and took her hand in his. Slowly, reverently, he brought it to his lips.

“Good-bye.”

He dropped her hand, turned away, and boarded the train.


	2. Time Keeps Moving On

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all wanted more? Here's more.

“Smile for the camera!”

_ Flash! _

“I can’t believe my little girl’s getting married!”

“Oh,  _ maman, _ stop crying! You’re going to make  _ me _ cry — Alya, not you, too!”

“I can’t help it, girl! You know I’ve been dreaming of this day for years!”

What they didn’t say was who everyone in that room had originally thought she was going to be getting married  _ to. _ What they didn’t know was why she refused to talk about him. They all came up with their own reasons, though. And no matter what they thought, facts were facts, and she had moved on.

“Me, too. This all feels like a dream come true.”

“You  _ look _ like a dream. Of course, no other dress could do you justice than an MDC original!”

“Oh,  _ stop _ it!”

The girls continued fussing over the not-quite-blushing soon-to-be-bride until her best friend picked up on enough signals to send the bridal party to go check up on the status of the groom’s party. Alya stayed back just to make sure that Marinette wasn’t hyperventilating or overthinking things, as she was wont to do, then followed everyone else out to give her a few minutes of peace and quiet. 

Marinette walked over to the huge mirror adorning the wall. True, in the self-designed dress, she looked stunning. She could admit that to herself. Her makeup had been done to make her eyes look bigger, her cheeks pinker, her lips more flush. With a carefully practiced smile, she was able to complete the image of the perfect bride.

As the door opened again, she spotted a small lock of hair out of place.

“Hey, Alya, would you mind grabbing me a bobby pin?”

She heard footsteps cross the room as she made sure the rest of her updo was secure. She didn’t have the mental energy to devote to realizing that those footsteps weren’t made by heels, but she couldn’t deny that the figure that moved into the reflection behind her was not that of her best friend. 

The hand smoothing her hair into place and pinning it down with practiced ease may have belonged to the person who was  _ once _ her best friend, but he’d abandoned that title when he’d abandoned  _ her. _

“Adrien,” she said, and she made no attempt to keep the ice out of her voice.

“Marinette,” he replied, voice just as smooth as it had been.

“How did you get in here?” She couldn’t turn around, not yet, couldn’t face the fact that he was  _ here _ after all this time.

“I still have  _ some _ connections.” The mirror showed him looking down at her, raising a hand to the back of her neck. She took a step forward, leaning closer to study her face for any imperfections. “All very discreet, of course.”

“Of course.” There was the barest hint of lipstick that had smudged from its place. She gently removed it with a fingernail.

“You look even more beautiful than I remembered.”

Marinette closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Slowly, carefully, expression betraying nothing, she turned around. Her eyes met his with a level stare. “Adrien, why are you here?”

Hesitation was written all over his face. “I had to see you.”

“And say what?” Marinette laughed, but it sounded dry. “That you still love me? That you want me back?”

His answer was in the way he opened his mouth and nothing came back, in the way that his arm reflexively reached for her before he had the mind to pull it back to his side.

“...Unbelievable.” Marinette stepped forward, brushing past him and crossing to where her veil was resting on the head form. “It’s been seven years. A lot has changed.”

“I know.” His eyes tracked her movement as she made her way back to the mirror, holding the veil. “I’ve regretted leaving you every day since.”

Marinette hummed as she centered the lace. “Do you know who else it’s been seven years since I’ve seen? Tikki. You know, my kwami. Oh! And yours, too. Plagg, I think that was his name?” It took everything in her not to glance at him in the reflection, but she could see the step he took away from her. “Yeah. Remember when you bitched out of telling him what you were doing?  _ I _ thought he deserved an explanation. So I got to give him one, once he figured out what was going on.

“And after that, Master Fu said that if Ladybug existed without a Black Cat, the balance would be disrupted. He offered me a choice: I could find someone else to carry the Miraculous, or I could say good-bye to Tikki forever.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I couldn’t do that to Plagg, though,” she continued, setting the clips in place. “Not so soon afterwards. And… I knew I wouldn’t be able to find someone to replace you. It was a good-bye that neither of us had been prepared for, and it wasn’t a choice made by either of us.”

“Marinette, I’m  _ sorry.” _

“Sorry for what?” She whirled around to face him again, but this time, her face wasn’t carefully schooled. “For making me give up my Miraculous? For leaving me? For breaking my heart? For  _ betraying _ me?”

_ “Yes,” _ he said, and she didn’t know a voice could sound so broken on just one word. “All of that. For  _ everything. _ Marinette, I don’t know myself without you.”

“And you waited until the day I’m getting married to tell me that? Impeccable timing, really. Was this the only day that fit into your schedule?”

“Don’t be like this. Please.”

“Adrien, I know you’re not stupid enough to think you could just waltz in here and I’d go swooning into your arms. So, I’m going to ask you again: what are you doing here?”

His chin lifted. “I could ask you the same question.”

Marinette leaned back defensively. “What do you mean?”

“Do you love him?” The way her jaw clenched was answer enough for him. “Is this really what you want?”

“What I  _ wanted _ was Ladybug and Chat Noir!” she snapped, unable to stop herself. “We were supposed to be a team. We were supposed to be  _ made _ for each other. We were supposed to  _ trust _ each other and  _ communicate _ and make decisions  _ together! _ I’m not the one who gave all of that up. You told me to go out and do better for myself. Well, this is me going out and doing better for myself.”

She turned her head to the side, blinking back the tears. Someone would be coming for her soon, and she didn’t have time to redo her makeup.

“We could still have that.”

“No, we couldn’t. Because the person I thought I wanted to spend the rest of my life with wouldn’t have left me all alone to cry my heart out.”

“You were right,” he said, stepping towards her and grabbing her hands in his. “I was scared of my feelings, and I was scared that you would leave me. I tried to take control of the situation by leaving first, and it was  _ so _ stupid of me to do that. But I’ve  _ changed, _ Marinette. Please, just give me a chance.”

It took Marinette a second to find her voice again. “You know the worst part about this? I still love you.”

The hint of a smile turned the corners of his lips up. “I still love you, too.” He squeezed her hands. “So… What now?”

There was a knock on the door. They both turned their heads towards it as Alya’s voice sounded through. “Marinette, it’s almost time!”

She pulled her hands away. 

“I have to go.” She turned away, ignoring the way he reached out for her. “I’m sorry.”

At the door, she paused, turning back towards him one last time.

“And… Thank you. You were right about that, if nothing else.”

 


	3. Take What Little We Deserve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the most Extra and Dramatic thing i’ve written and you can all fight me. Please keep in mind that this is def not a ‘how to live your life by Lynn’ fic.
> 
> also, special thanks to [TOG84](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TOG84/pseuds/TOG84) & [Lady_Bryght](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Bryght) for putting up with me during my writing process, and for being the best beta readers a girl could ask for <3

As Marinette surveyed the room, lifting her wine glass to her lips, she couldn’t deny a thrill that ran through her.

All these people were here for  _ her. _

Well, her designs, anyway.

It was past one in the morning, the time when everything seems to  _ shift _ just a little, and she couldn’t help but feel like she was floating. It was partially the alcohol, and partially the fact that the past month was finally  _ over. _

But, mostly, it was because one of the spots in Paris’ Fall Fashion Week had been hers. 

She’d made it. She’d proven she was worthy of playing in the upper leagues now, and several others who’d gone through that rite were at this party.  _ Her _ party.

“Marinette!” 

She turned to find one of Versace’s head designers approaching her. He’d originally worked for Gabriel, she knew that much. When that empire was dismantled, many of the designers had been picked up by other big names.

“Alessandro! I’m so glad you could make it!”

The two greeted each other with a hug. They’d met some years back, when Marinette was still a junior designer at Céline. It had been at a party much like this one, and he had immediately been impressed with her designs and amused at her fiery attitude. 

“Ah, how could I not? My little star is shining for all the world to see, now!”

“I still can’t believe this is real,” she laughed.

They fell into easy conversation, as they did whenever they ran into each other. If they’d worked in the same fashion house, Marinette was sure he would have been something of a mentor to her. They worked well together, for sure, and he was honest about any criticisms he had. She would have grown a lot under him, but she was more than happy with where she was now. 

After a few minutes, he spotted someone else he wanted to catch up with.

“And, anyway, I cannot be taking up  _ all _ your time, now, can I?”

As he stepped forward for a parting hug, his eyes slid to somewhere behind her and he stopped mid-step. 

“Mother of God…” 

At the same time, the small string ensemble that had been playing petered out, and it was only then that Marinette noticed that the gentle buzz of the room had faded into a dead silence.

A feeling akin to ice water filled her stomach as she glanced around and saw faces of models, designers, and other celebrities alike looking at something behind her. Her fingers tightened their grip on the glass as she registered the slow sound of footsteps approaching her.

Realizing she’d eventually have to see what had caused her party to come to a sudden stop, she took a deep breath and turned around.

Maybe, just maybe, some small part of her had been expecting this.

Maybe that was why the custom piece she was wearing was midnight black with delicate emerald green accents.

Maybe that was why the entire line that had been her debut into high fashion had been centered around the past heroes of Paris.

And maybe that was why it took so much effort to pull her face into stony indifference instead of letting the corners of her lips turn up into a smile at the sight of Adrien Agreste, dressed in a suit that matched the color of the dark red rose he held in his hand.

He approached her, breezing quickly through public, social, and personal space until he was lingering on the border of intimacy.

_ Step away! _

Her mind screamed at her, even as her arm inched forward to meet his hand, crossing the distance between them like he had so many times, so many years ago.

_ Don’t let him do this! _

He raised her hand to his lips, never breaking eye contact.

_ You’re married, for Christ’s sake! _

Somewhere off to the side, the flash of a camera went off. Marinette couldn’t really find it in herself to care. 

_ It’s not like he can cast any stones. _

“Marinette,” he as good as purred, “You’re looking beautiful as ever.”

She ignored the small gasp from behind her, even as the room slowly broke out into whispers.

“Adrien, it’s good to see you again,” she replied. He released her hand to offer her the rose, which she took as indifferently as she could manage. “I’m guessing you didn’t come to congratulate me on my new line.”

A half-smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Well, of  _ course  _ that was part of it. They were truly… Inspired. But you know me too well. Can I speak with you somewhere a bit more private?”

She really shouldn’t.

“...Only for a bit. I need to be here, as I’m sure you understand.”

“Of course.” 

His smile spread to the other side of his mouth as she moved around him and started walking towards the door he’d just come in. He quickly fell into step next to her and, on an impulse decision, she reached for him and rested her hand in the crook of his elbow.

“I see you haven’t lost your flair for the dramatic,” she said as they reached the doors. There weren’t many reporters outside, as the party had been in full swing for several hours, but a few still remained, hoping to get some shots of various people of importance as they left. Marinette and Adrien both ignored the flashes of their cameras as they walked out and turned onto the sidewalk. The tabloids could wait until tomorrow.

“So, tell me, Marinette,” he started in a perfectly conversational tone, “How’s married life treating you?

“Very well,” she replied, keeping her tone even. “All things considered, of course.”

“All things?” 

Marinette noticed his voice was slightly too high, as if he was trying to keep it even but failing. She sighed.

“Adrien, I’m not going to insult your intelligence by pretending you haven’t seen the articles. Who hasn’t? I know what they’re saying about him, and what they’re saying about me. It’s okay.”

“I just don’t get it!” And  _ there _ was the emotion she’d been waiting for. “How could someone marry  _ you _ and decide to give it all up?”

“We’re both career driven people. He wanted to be an entertainment lawyer. I wanted to be a fashion designer. A Parisian one. I’m not going to give up my roots just because he wanted to move to New York.” She glanced up at him, but only for a second as she paused. “He and I both knew that going into it. And we didn’t have the kind of previous relationship that you and I would have had, if…”

Adrien faltered for a step. “If I hadn’t left you.”

“Yeah.”

He was quiet for a moment, and when he spoke again, it was barely above a whisper.

“I will never forgive myself for that day, Marinette. And I know I sound like a complete hypocrite, calling him an idiot for leaving you, but… God, Marinette,  _ why _ are you staying with him? You deserve so much better than him… Better than me.”

Marinette swallowed. “I married him because… Because he was supposed to be safe. I knew he didn’t love me, and I knew I didn’t love him, but… Well, I knew that I wouldn’t love anyone else the way I’d loved you, and I guess I assumed he’d had something similar. To be honest, I don’t really know  _ why _ he married me. Not any more.”

Adrien moved her hand away from his arm so he could wrap it around her shoulders instead. She tolerated it for a few seconds before shrugging it off and putting a few additional inches of space between them.

“I can’t — I can’t let myself be seen like that. Leaving the party with you was bad enough.”

“Why not?” His voice was quiet, but it carried sadness and anger just as well as if he’d been shouting. “Heaven knows he didn’t even think twice before letting himself be photographed with all those other women.”

After a few more moments of silent walking, she stopped. Adrien stopped next to her, reaching towards her but not quite touching her.

“Adrien…” She blinked rapidly as she stared at the ground, trying to dispel her tears before they started. “I need to ask you something, and I need to give me a completely honest answer. Can you do that?”

She couldn’t see the sad look in his eyes as he nodded. “I can.”

Marinette took a deep breath and squared her shoulders before she turned to face him fully. Their eyes met, and suddenly, it felt like just the two of them. Her self-consciousness melted away. This wasn’t just Adrien; this was Chat Noir. Her partner.

“Why did you come tonight?”

Her tone was much more even than she thought it would be. As she waited for an answer, a feeling of security worked its way through her veins. It was the opposite of any sort of emotionally-charged scenario that had played out in her head. 

She hadn’t been able to think of him as Chat in a very long while, not since the sadness at his loss had faded and anger had sprung up in its place. It was a jarring reminder that she was now standing on a sidewalk in the city they’d protected day and night ten years ago.

Adrien was hesitating, biting his lip as if that would be able to stop him from speaking.

“Adrien…?”

“Because I’m selfish.” The words were quiet, and he broke eye contact to stare at some storefront behind her. “I’m selfish and I want you, even though I gave you up. I want you, Marinette, even though you’re not mine… Even if you don’t want me.”

“You’re wrong, you know.” Marinette’s words were equally as quiet as she stepped forward, leaving only a few inches between them. “I’ve always been yours.”

She watched in amusement as his eyes snapped back to meet hers, his lips parting slightly. She leaned up to place a hand on his shoulder, steadying herself while she raised herself up on her toes. 

“And, if I’m being honest right now, I’m feeling a little selfish, too.”

When their lips met for the first time, it was soft, hesitant. For all of the emotional buildup, in truth, she was nervous about kissing him. It wasn’t forgiveness for what he’d done to her, but it was a start.

On his part, she could guess that he wasn’t entirely sure he  _ had _ been forgiven. But, well, that was a conversation for later.

Even as slow as the kiss had started, as soon as they got over whatever mental block that had been holding them back, it progressed quickly. 

It seemed like no time at all passed between her parting her lips to gently run her tongue across the seam of his lips and him pressing forward, guiding her a few steps into the nearby alleyway before her back hit the wall.

He was leaning into her, seemingly intent on taking everything she was willing to give him. She, in turn, had one hand fisted in his hair, the other, pulling against his shoulders, clinging to him, keeping him close, making sure he didn’t —

— And, suddenly, it was too much. He was too close too much too fast and pulling him closer became pushing him away and she couldn’t breathe fast enough, already turning away from him as soon as there was available space between them, but she was stopped by his hands.

“Marinette? What’s wrong?” 

One of his hands was touching her chin, tilting her head up, trying to get her to look him in the eyes, but she stubbornly refused. She jerked her head out of his grasp, but his other arm was still keeping her from getting some space.

“Did I do something wrong?”

She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. “I just — It’s just — for the love of God, can you  _ please _ back up? I don’t have room to  _ think!” _

She missed his startled expression, the way his free hand moved in for a second, as if he was going to comfort her, but she did notice that after a brief hesitation, he moved away. Marinette sagged against the wall, feeling like a puppet with her strings cut.

As she slid down the wall, she buried her face in her hands. Perhaps at some other point, she’d worry about what the rough brick was doing to her dress, but that Marinette was not here right now, please leave a message. She felt like there should be tears, but there were none. 

At least she could breathe again.

Adrien’s footsteps came around to the side of her and she heard the sound of him sitting down. She couldn’t feel him, though, and assumed he’d continued to give her some space.

She  _ could, _ however, feel his eyes on her, waiting for some kind of explanation for her erratic behavior. She took a deep breath.

“Adrien, I…” Summoning her courage, she looked up at him. “I don’t want you leaving me again.” Her voice was smaller than she would have cared for it to be, making her sound more vulnerable than she was. That’s what she told herself, anyway. She’d made it very clear in her mind that she was  _ not _ going to let herself be hurt by him again.

“Marinette,” he sighed, eyes closing for a brief second. When he opened them again, he gave her a soft smile and scooted closer to her. 

He leaned in again and she stiffened for a second —  _ was he  _ really _ going to try and kiss her again right now? _ — before she relaxed as he leaned his forehead against hers. 

“Marinette,” he said again, “I told you I wouldn’t leave you again. I know I haven’t been around long enough to earn your trust again, but I swear to you, I will wait as long as it takes. Just let me know what I have to do. I want you in my life.”

...And  _ now _ the tears came. She didn’t try to talk, not yet; she just ducked her head into the crook of his neck and all of her stress from the past month, her frustrations at herself and her relationship, and a bit of everything she’d been keeping bottled up was let out on his shoulder.

Luckily, he didn’t seem to mind. He just looped his arms around her, softly stroking her back, and placed gentle kisses in her hair.

“I’m so stupid,” she eventually mumbled.

His reassurance came immediately. “You’re not stupid, Marinette.”

“I am, though.” When she pulled back, she knew she looked like a mess. The fact that her mascara was waterproof was her only saving grace. The rest could not be said for the rest of her makeup. “I’m  _ married, _ Adrien. And I can’t just  _ leave _ him. What would the press say? And… And he’s the one that helped me get started in the first place. If it wasn’t for his money —”

“Marinette, calm down. You’re overthinking things.” He looked off to the side for a second as he sighed. “Do you remember what party it was that I so rudely crashed? You’re in Paris’ Fashion Week, Marinette. You’ve definitely made it as a designer. I don’t think your income is something you need to be worried about.”

“But what if something happens?” She was grasping at straws now. It was a weak excuse, and they both knew it.

“Well, then, I guess it’s a good thing your ex-sidekick is Adrien Agreste, isn’t it?”

“You were never my sidekick,” she responded automatically with squinted eyes. “We were partners.”

“Semantics. We can come back to that.” He gave her a playful grin. “As for the media, well… If I’m being honest, they’ll  _ praise _ you for leaving your husband. Everyone knows that what he’s doing isn’t right, and I’m  _ sure _ you’ve seen the articles full of speculation as to why you’re even together.”

She hadn’t, actually. She tended to avoid news involving herself, knowing it would only lead to doubt over her choices.

“This is going to take a lot of work, you know. We’re not exactly in the best place to just jump right into a relationship.”

“I know,” he said, his smile softening. “You’re worth it, though. I’ll wait as long as I have to. I promise.”

Warmth spread in her cheeks as they looked at each other. “I love you. You know that, right?”

“I love you too, Marinette.”

When their lips met again, it was with the promise of a better future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue stuff, bc i will most likely be too lazy to write it out and i know y’all are gonna ask: Mari divorced her husband, she and Adrien had some extensive couples’ therapy and yes, they eventually get married and have a happy ending.

**Author's Note:**

> please direct all hate comments to [my tumblr,](https://etoilesjaunes.tumblr.com/) thank you <3


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